Chapter 34: Now You Know

"I want you guys to forget everything you think you know about the Games," I begin early the next morning, circling the kitchen island in the penthouse suite while pouring myself a mug of coffee. "Last year was child's play. This year, you're dealing with all experienced killers, no matter what shape they appear to be in."

Peeta leans forward, steepling his fingers in thought. "OK: what does that mean for us?"

I ease myself into the chair across from him. "That means you're gonna need some allies."

Even when I break it to them as gently as I can, Katniss takes this bit of advice exactly the way I feared she would: terribly. "No. I don't trust any of them. Especially not that Johanna. I don't like her…."

"Don't like her?" Peeta gawps. "We've never even met her!"

Katniss fiercely glowers at him. "Now I know where that tent in your pants came from last night in the elevator."

Oh, joy. Lover's tiff. I'm out of here…. or, I would be, if I still didn't have a job to do.

"I was all hard-up for you, in case you didn't realize from what else we did last night…"

"Ok, ok, enough, let's get back on topic," I redirect my son. "No matter how you might feel about allies, Katniss…." (I look at her pointedly) "… you and Peeta are starting at a distinct disadvantage. Neither of you have ever mentored in your lives, whereas most of these people have been friends, and I've been friends with them, for years. Decades, even. So, pop quiz: who do you think they will gun for first?"

"Us," Peeta understands right away, paling a little. "That cowboy from 10 already said he wants Katniss's blood."

"That just puts us higher on their kill list!" Katniss scoffs. "All but one of us are gonna be dead within a matter of days anyway."

"True," I concede. "But that doesn't mean you ignore the whole point of the Games: staying alive. For as long as you can."

"We have all we need," Katniss insists, lacing Peeta's hand through hers and smiling at him softly.

"No, you don't," I push back. "You guys may have done just fine keeping house in a cave and with four kills between you…."

"…. because Cato didn't leave enough for the rest of us…" Peeta cuts across me.

"…. But like I said: you're going to be in an arena full of Victors now. The stakes of Quarter Quells are always higher. I went in with 47 other people. You two are looking at 22 veterans who have all survived one Games. Those are almost insurmountable odds, which means you cannot go it alone."

"So you want us to pair up with your old mentor Brutus and Finnick? Is that what you're saying?" The disgust has stubbornly refused to budge from Katniss's voice.

"Not necessarily," I say. "Everyone in there is a Victor. Build your own 'Career Pack' as it were, if that's what you'd prefer. I recommend Chaff and Seeder quite highly. And Johanna's not to be ignored, or her district partner." (Katniss's face falls at this). "Nor should you count Finnick out. He's very popular with his fan base, and the media. There is nothing low-class about hitching your wagon to a Victor who has a dizzying command of sponsor cash."

Peeta seems to be buying into what I am saying. Katniss appears to be opening herself up more to the idea, though she is clearly still wary. Something is still holding her back. I know she has her mission of wanting to keep Peeta alive, to ensure he wins. I wait patiently, certain that if it gnaws at her long enough, she will come to me with her concerns.

She does. "How could any of us even trust each other?"

I smile kindly. "Well, you are going to have to turn on each other eventually," I state delicately. "But even then, these Games have never been about trust. Quite the opposite, actually – it's always safer to be a little leery, even of your own allies. But most of all, the Games are about…." I let them finish the sentence.

"Staying alive," they both drone.

"Precisely. Now: I've already jotted down some notes about who might be useful to you." I push my notes to the center of the table and let them peruse it. I can see Katniss wrinkling her nose when her finger runs under Johanna's name, and the frown deepens further when she reads Chaff under my list of prospective allies. I smile at her a little. "I promise, I won't let him kiss you again. Chaff will be good."

Katniss doesn't smile back, trying to at least make a token effort to seriously consider the options I've laid out. "Hold up: why is she on this list?" Craning my eyes over the top of the paper, I read Annie's name upside-down where Katniss is pointing to it.

"Because if you decide to team up with Finnick, you're going to get Annie. They're kind of a package deal."

"Why?" Katniss frowns. "Why would a Career like that go out of his way to protect a madwoman?"

"Because he's fucking that 'madwoman', as you've so callously referred to her," I snap. Katniss blinks, chastised, and even I'm surprised by myself a little bit; I can't recall ever being so short with her. More to the point, I almost never swear, and considering I've always discouraged my sons from doing so, I'm not setting a good example. I soften. "They're in love with each other," I say gently. Peeta and Katniss look at one another, obviously not aware of what most of us and likely Snow already know.

"She was the girl who won five years ago. When that dam broke," Katniss guesses, her voice having grown soft.

"And everyone else drowned." A lightbulb goes off in Peeta's head. "She's Finnick's weakness," he breathes. "She exposes him."

"Yeah, and no matter how much he might care for her, a guy like that has to know she's not going to make it. Not in her mental state. I bet when it comes down to it, he won't protect her," Katniss hypothesizes flatly.

I cock an eyebrow at her. "You'd lose that bet," I pronounce, even more emphatically. Katniss doesn't seem to believe me, so I try to put it in a way she will understand. "If either of you touches that poor girl, you'll be dead and bleeding out on some rocks or sand from a trident wound before you can say 'District 12.' As long as you keep Annie alive, you'll stay on Finnick's good side. But if it comes down to a choice between saving y'all's skins and saving hers, he will choose her. Every time. She's his Peeta. Comprende?" Both my goddaughter and my son visibly gulp, but nod. From the cowed look in her stormy grey eyes, I think I am finally getting through to Katniss.

"So: Districts 4, 7 and 11, you think we should team up with them…" Katniss mulls over slowly.

"Just even one of them would do wonders in helping you. All of them, even better," I grin. "Which is why, when you get to Training, I would like for you guys to branch out and make friends with as many folks as possible, but especially the ones on that shortlist. If they're receptive, report back to me, and I'll enter into alliance negotiations with their mentors. Please note: Chaff and Seeder have a mentor out on loan from District 9, but don't let that deter you; Abram is a good guy." I check my watch. "All right. Dismissed. Have a good day." Peeta kisses me on the cheek as he rounds the table, and he and Katniss head for the elevators.

Left to my own devices, I decide to place more sponsor calls and see what dough I can rustle up for my kids. Most everyone is absolutely devastated about Katniss and Peeta, and promise to forward whatever they can. Effie entices me to watch some of Caesar and Claudius's initial coverage, in between calls, as a sort of break. Before I know it, the sun is beginning to sink towards the skyline of the city. Katniss and Peeta will be coming back up in the elevators soon.

My cell phone rings in my pocket. "Sorry, Effie, gotta take this." I flip the phone open. "Hello?"

"Howdy, little darling. Any of the sponsor fish biting?"

I freeze. "What do you want, Brutus? Aside from my boy's head on a pike."

"I was just hoping to enter into a contract with your girl…. Katniss."

I frown even harder, deeply suspicious. What the hell does Brutus want to be allies with Katniss for? I wait for my old mentor to say, but he doesn't. But I know my goddaughter, and…. "She won't go for it. She'd sooner eat dirt than pal around with your band of not so merry marauders. And you've made it very clear that you want my son's blood, and Katniss won't part with him. So, if you want to recruit her that badly enough, you take on them both and you stay the fuck away from my son!"

"Maysilee…."

"Whatever, Brutus. You're really that hard-up for an extra ally, tell Lupus he needs to be the one getting on the phone and entering into negotiations with me. Goodbye." I click END CALL with such force, the button nearly breaks. Watching me from over on the couch, Effie cringes.

"Why would a Career want to make allies with District 12?"

"No idea," I shrug. And if I didn't know better, I'd say that Brutus was trying to lay a trap.

It seems Brutus was just the appetizer, because suddenly, my phone is ringing off the hook. Chevy from District 6. Emrys Avery from 5. Even Ben Cooper of 9 places an order in for Katniss to join forces with Nolan. Abram places a call on behalf of Chaff, adding that Chaff told him to tell me that they want to settle a contract in person, preferably tonight, up on the roof of the Training Center. I decipher the code immediately: that's where Plutarch is holding his meeting. More calls come pouring in - it's Katniss, Katniss, Katniss, with the occasional mentor asking for alliance contracts with Peeta, as well.

By the time the couple in question arrives back up in the penthouse…. "At least half the tribute Victors want you as an ally." I study Katniss, impressed that she came out of her anti-social shell enough to make friends with the zeal of a kindergartner on her first day.

But it turns out, Katniss's sudden improvement in social skills isn't what endeared over half the field to her.

"They saw her shoot," Peeta spoons up some rice pilaf. "Actually, I saw her shoot, for the first time. I'm about to put in a formal request myself."

I know Glen and I taught her well, but… "You hit the targets so well that Brutus wants you?"

Katniss's face collapses in revulsion. "But I don't want Brutus," she scoffs. "I want Annie and District 3."

"Johanna Mason calls them Nuts and Volts," Peeta contributes.

I stare at my goddaughter in abject disbelief. Beetee and Wiress weren't even on my shortlist. And how Katniss has done a complete 180 on Finnick's girlfriend, when she was just trashing the gal this morning, is beyond me. She's all gung-ho for Annie, but Finnick wasn't even mentioned. If Katniss starts taking in the weaker tributes like a cat lady adopting stray kittens, they'll all be dead within a week.

I sigh loudly, sinking into my chair and ladling up my plate with food. "Of course you do…" I grumble, not quite under my breath. "I'll put out calls to Mags and Jules Elmer from 7, and tell the others you're still making up your mind."


That night, I leave the kids on the couch watching a Capitol soap opera and steal up the back stairs to the rooftop.

I appear to be one of the last to arrive, from the crowd that is gathered. I feel even more conspicuous when many of my colleagues lower their voices or halt conversations entirely upon seeing me. Many of the Victors assembled here are ones whom I would expect to rebel, though there are a few surprises: Abram Mills is one of them, for his native District 9 harbors very strong isolationist tendencies. Lyme Tanner, an actual Career Victor, is another shocker. Most of the Victors are mentors this year. Only a few present – like Johanna Mason and Finnick Odair – are destined for the arena in the next few days.

Plutarch is in the midst of shouting at poor Jules Elmer when I enter. "That doomsday routine you pulled at the Reaping could have cost us everything! You're lucky the Head of the Capitol Peacekeepers is one of ours undercover; otherwise there'd be an inquiry!" Seeing me, Plutarch trails off, holds court at the head of the space and pulls out an egg-shaped device. I remember Chaff using it in a conversation we had last year, where we first hatched the Star-Crossed Lovers plot… and then the plot ran away from us beyond our wildest dreams.

"Thanks to Mr. Latier, this device will create white noise to obscure our conversation. It's mostly just an extra precaution, since I'm fairly confident this rooftop is one of the few places without recording capabilities. In the interest of caution, however, I suggest we complete these deliberations fast." He takes a deep breath before continuing:

"Aides close to the President have informed me that Snow is quite excited about holding this Quell. Obsessed with it, really – particularly with Katniss Everdeen's participation." I can feel eyes shifting over to look at me, but I don't acknowledge them. "He is so fixated on it, in fact, that his advisers worry for both his mental and physical health." Somewhere off to his left, Johanna snorts. "He has even been asking aides around him and contacting me to ask if there is a way to ensure that Katniss Everdeen will die. The best I could assure him is that the arena will be deadly. Its planning has been in the works for years. So, tributes – be ready for anything."

"Can you tell us what it is?" Bovina Martinez of 10 pipes up.

Plutarch shakes his head. "If any of the tributes show the slightest bit of preparation, we'll all get hauled in for questioning. Suffice it to say, it is deadly, though I will concede that the landscape will be quite to District 4's liking."

Water. That's a hint that at least some of the arena terrain will be covered in water. I blanche. I never taught any of my boys how to swim; there was no reason to learn. And Katniss…. I'm uncertain if even she knows how to swim.

"What's the plan, Plutarch?" Cotton Rivers from 8 calls out. "I have a tribute in tears over possibly never seeing her children again, and another who still doesn't understand what the hell is going on!"

Plutarch nods grimly. "We have a plan…. To break as many of your tributes out of the arena as possible." He takes another deep breath before dropping the proverbial bomb:

"I have been in contact with District 13, and they are providing a rescue craft."

Silence. We all lean forward, hardly daring to breathe. District 13 has been thought destroyed for decades. For them to now reappear and come to our aid...

"However… based on the arena's coordinates that I have smuggled to them, it will take a few days to get there. Once you tributes are in the inside, I will smuggle you a message in code about when to expect the rescue ship. Sadly, that means…."

"…. We have to start playing the Games as normal," Jules Elmer croaks, reclining in his wheelchair.

"And we have some new developments about that. Mr. Odair?" Plutarch cedes the floor.

Finnick steps up. "In Training today, Matthias Fletcher approached me with a proposition: he and Roan Tully of 10 are convinced that whoever kills Katniss Everdeen, that person will become the Victor again. Roan even seems to think that if Katniss is killed within the opening minutes of the Games, Snow will stop the Quell itself."

"Roan's a fucking retard," Johanna scoffs. "And Matthias trying to take down Warrior Princess? That's a right laugh!"

"These assassination threats are serious," Finnick shoots Johanna a glare. "And in my opinion, they are credible, even coming from a drunk like Fletcher. I am going to pretend to work with them, and then turn on them if they get too close to Katniss."

"… Which brings me to another point," Plutarch reassumes control. "Katniss Everdeen must be kept alive. She must be one of the tributes to survive and escape."

"And Peeta," I pipe up. Everyone's heads snap to look at me, and Plutarch raises an eyebrow. My jaw sets. "You want Katniss alive, you have to defend my boy as well. She won't be able to move forward adequately if he dies."

Plutarch lets out a dramatic sigh. "Very well. Peeta Mellark will be added to the No-Kill List. If any tribute threatens the lives of the District 12 tributes, you kill them. If the arena starts to get to somebody and they threaten you, you kill them in self-defense. Our goal is to get as many people out of the arena alive as possible, but there are Victors who will get in the way of that. I'm talking, of course, about the Careers and Districts 9 and 10. Five is currently in revolt, though I don't know if Circe would stand with us; Matthias clearly isn't. You have my permission to take any of these tributes out."

"One more thing:" Beetee steps forward. "I respectfully request that I be placed on the No-Kill List alongside Ms. Everdeen and Mr. Mellark."

"Why?" Johanna sneers.

"Jo, please," Finnick groans.

"There will be something in the Cornucopia pile that I need. It is imperative to our mission that I get it and get back out of the Bloodbath alive. I'll need cover."

"I'll do it," Blight Gavin pipes up. Johanna looks ready to kill him before they even reach the arena, but Blight's volunteering does its job. She steps forward grudgingly. "Me too."

Plutarch nods in approval. "A final directive: no one is to tell Katniss and Peeta anything about the plan. They have to go in blind, otherwise they might tip Snow off." He stares at me hard when he says this, and I have no choice but to nod. "That settles it. Any other questions?" No one replies. He nods and turns off the device. "May the odds be ever in your favor." With that, we disperse.

I head back downstairs and enter the kitchenette, only to stop short when I focus in on what's playing on the television screen? I see…. me? My younger self is taking down the Career boy from 2 who threatened Haymitch's life. Quietly, I back up against the fridge and watch the re-run of my Games with my kids.

Unlike the highlights reel shown when I was on the Victors' Throne, everything is shone here: discovering the boy from 8's body, fighting the girl from 9. Then I kiss Haymitch, and he kisses me back and we actually fall back into the foresty leaves to have sex.

Oh no, I think weakly. This is the X-rated version.

As I observe my son watching his mother lose her virginity to a man who isn't his father – quite graphically, might I add; I can hear my own moans – the shifting of his body becomes increasingly uncomfortable. "We should fast-forward," he finally squeaks, reaching for the remote, but Katniss stops him.

"No. This is… kinda hot." Her statement makes me even queasier. Katniss is really into porn?

Haymitch and I reach the edge of the arena and comfort the boy from 5. Then, the tape shows the death of the last Career and our final battle with Beech. The axe ricochets, Beech goes down and then I tearfully cradle Haymitch as he dies. The tape ends.

Still not realizing I am there, Katniss and Peeta start excitedly talking amongst themselves. "That district partner of your mom's was really clever – he used the arena itself as a weapon! It's almost as bad as us and the berries!"

"Almost, but not quite." I speak up. Katniss and Peeta both snap their gazes to me guiltily, but I just smile sadly. And I'm right – the two cases are not at all the same. My kids' desperate stunt made them both Victor, whereas Haymitch's…. it came just too late for him.

My son is tripping over his words. "I'm sorry, Mom - Effie rented both the Quell tapes from the National Library; she thought it would be valuable for us to learn how they work..." Then something else dawns in Peeta's eyes. "My middle name…. it's Haymitch…."

I dip my head heavily. "Now you know," I murmur.

I am heartened when Peeta crosses to me and hugs me.


At dinner two evenings later, I watch as Katniss and Peeta eat their broth in silence, heads in their bowls and refusing to look at either Effie or me.

"OK, that's it: how bad was it?" I ask. I know there is something they don't want to tell me, and that it has to do with their private sessions before the Gamemakers, just completed. I turn to my son first. "Peeta, how did it go?"

"Good," he mumbles. At my pressing look, he cracks like an acorn. "I painted a picture of Rue in flowers."

I blink. OK, not what I thought he was going to say…. From what I remember, Peeta wasn't even there for Rue's death.

"Well, how come you didn't paint a picture of Katniss?" Effie asks mildly.

"Why would he paint a picture of me, Effie?" Katniss sniffs, annoyed.

"To show he's going to protect you…."

"Enough," I raise my voice a little, focusing back on Peeta. "What exactly did you think you were going to accomplish?"

"I…. I just wanted to hold them accountable, if only for a moment," Peeta stammers. "For killing that little girl."

"But Peeta, you can't think like that!" Effie sounds close to tears. "It's forbidden – absolutely!"

Out of the corner of my eye, Katniss is biting her bottom lip. "Katty," I say with faux calmness. "Is there anything you'd like to share with the class?"

Her head ducks into her soup bowl. "I hung an effigy of Seneca Crane."

Effie's jaw drops, as does mine. "You….. hung…. the former Head Gamemaker? As in, you threatened his life?"

"There's nothing to threaten. He's already dead," my goddaughter quips.

"And how do you know this?"

"Should I? Is it a secret? President Snow didn't seem to indicate that it was." She is holding my eyes fiercely and flatly, and I think back to the President's visit just after the Victory Tour.

"Oh, and Mom? We decided we don't want any allies," Peeta bravely announces.

Fuck. Outside of Plutarch, the other Gamemakers will want to chew both of them up and spit them out. And no allies means these two idiots might just kill off people who are risking their own lives to preserve theirs. I throw down my soupspoon angrily. "Let's go watch the other Training scores and see how badly you did before I kick a hole in the wall."

The Training Scores are fairly predictable: the Careers all get high scores. The Delacroix twins tie at 9. Enobaria gets a 10. Brutus an 11. Finnick also nets an 11. Low to medium for the rest, although Johanna gets a 9, as does Cecelia, Nolan manages an 8 and Roan pulls off a 10. I am cringing when Katniss's name appears on screen, but she and Peeta after her make Hunger Games History. Both receive unprecedented perfect scores of 12.

"Why did they do that?" Peeta's jaw is still on the floor.

"It's a signal. So the other tributes will know to target you." My teeth grind together. "Both of you, bed – now. In separate rooms." It's the best way I can think to punish them for their collective stupidity; I don't even care how Katniss is glaring at me before she prissily stomps down the hallway, her nose in the air. At my side, my son looks like he wants to say something, maybe issue an apology, but I turn away, giving him the silent treatment. Understanding how angry I am with him, he finally trudges off to bed.

I stay up at the kitchen counter going over the alliance contracts I had already signed: with Beetee and Wiress. With Annie. All of them for naught. I consider ripping them up, but think better of it. I then turn to the stack of alliance requests, my eyes zeroing in on the one at the top. Plucking it off the stack, I begin to fill in the boxes to make a necessary reply….